I write about second chances in love often. It can sometimes make sense to physically reconnect with a person you love and who loves you. Mistakes happen. We're all only human. Yet, it's also true that not everyone deserves a second chance. When abuse and abandonment are involved in any physical love-relationship, it's irreparable. Or at least, it should be....

But, before we address why abuse and abandonment don't add up to second chances in real love, let's first identify what real love is, and, what it isn't:

When I refer to a "physical" love relationship, it is because online romance is in bloom today thanks to smart technology making instant-gratification accessible around the clock. It feels "real," but none of it is based in real time or with real people physically doing anything but typing on a keyboard or touchpad, often hundreds (even thousands) of miles apart. The caveat, of course, is that online relationships can never offer more than virtual friendship, fantasy and fun. Unlike physical love relationships, there is no physical or financial support--both of which are integral to real partnerships in real love. And, basic survival.

As human beings, we have found that combining our physical lives and resources are what allow us to not only support each other in the real world, but also, survive it. With online romance, its easy to be drawn in by fantasy, fun and the friendship that evolves from sharing both. Why can't your real life relationships ever be that good??? Because, real life means facing real problems--together That's stressful. Fantasy doesn't help you pay your bills or take care of you when your sick, cook you dinner, pick up milk from the store, or help you change a tire. That doesn't mean online friendships can't be rewarding--they are! Your online friends can feel more like family at times. You can cultivate friendships that literally span years. I've even met lots of online friends in the real world. I didn't get involved with social media until 2009, but I have friendships that go back to my first trial tweets on Twitter--no joke. I've also had more cyberstalkers as a result. Part of why is because I'm not a real person in real time when on social media; I'm just the idea of a "real" person...theoretically attractive.

When it comes to real love in real life, people's insecurities are more easily seen (and felt). That's why spending time together in the real world--for months, even years--is needed to insure that, beyond real love, there is a real partnership. But it still doesn't prevent insecurity from leading to things like cheating, abandonment, separation, and divorce. When we realize fear is the enemy, and not each other, it's easier to apply compassion over judgment and solutions over problems. And yet, it would be a great disservice to those of you who are perhaps still in love with a toxic ex (an abusive and/or neglectful person you physically shared your life with) to not also write to your needs. To talk about how, in some circumstances, giving a person you love a second chance can actually be harmful...to you both.

While every physical love-relationship may be unique, toxicity is still toxicity. Others may not understand how you can still be in love with an abuser, destroyer, user, narcissist, Svengali...whatever best describes your ex, it matters not. Real love developed in the real world goes no where. You may have known your ex as a gentle, kind person who was loving and generous to you, but something happened that revealed another side--one that frightened you. The relationship may have ended as a result of that change, regardless of who ended it, or, how it ended. Yet, even if years have passed, you just can't seem to shake that sense of love, of longing, and ultimately, of loss.

It's debilitating to suffer the sudden loss of a physical love-relationship--even an abusive one--if it also involved sharing a home and building a family. Your whole life was that person, now your ex. But, if that individual walked away from all you had together without any warning, it pains me to say your ex did not truly love you. Somewhere inside, you know this, because, you also know it's simply not fair to arbitrarily leave a shared life without at least attempting to first find resolutions. That's what commitment means.

A person who is toxic is only toxic because that individual is abusive. Abuse isn't just being physically hit or hurt in some way; it's psychological, emotional, and/or financial, too. If your ex unexpectedly leaves you on a whim, it makes you vulnerable to debt, even bankruptcy. You can lose your home, your job and any security and stability you may have worked hard to earn--perhaps all of that has happened to you already.

When real love is really present, even if you can no longer remain a couple, an ethical ex will make sure your security and stability aren't jeopardized by the break. But when love isn't present, your life becomes a war zone. A toxic ex will show you how little you mean to him or her. And, I am very, very sorry. Your ex's bad behavior is a reflection of their own disconnects, not yours.

Abrupt endings in physical love relationships lead to regret on the part of your ex, but on your end, too. Unresolved relationships need closure. But part of the cruelty of the event itself is that you had none. When one partner disappears without warning, the other has no say whatsoever. Physically disappearing is just an attempt to avoid responsibility--which in turn puts you in the unenviable position of cleaning up someone else's mess. Not fair...not fair at all. When a person loves you, they also respect you. Unexpectedly leaving you to shoulder the burdens of a life you built together is completely disrespectful, lacking in love, care, or honor of any kind.

Despite the copious amounts of insult and injury from your toxic ex, you may still think about reunion--even pray for it. That's a side effect of real love. It's also part of the psychology of abandonment. At least part of why you think you may want to be with your ex again is to feel validated and valued by the person who rejected you. When that person returns--which may feel like a miracle--agency is then returned to you. You'll feel happy in the arms you miss, being seen by the eyes you only see through love. Who wouldn't want that???

You can't beat yourself up if you feel as though you want to reunite with a toxic person. It's actually incredibly normal. However, no matter what you may want, an abusive ex cannot be allowed to return. Whatever you had to do to survive your ex's unilateral decisions--which I'm quite sure included some kind of humiliation--can't be erased just because your toxic ex wants it to be. You both may want to go back to happier times, but happy will only exist for you in the future if you stay away and keep away from any toxic influences, including your abusive ex. Unless your ex disappeared because he was kidnapped and held against his will, you absolutely cannot open your life to that toxicity again. No matter how much you still love your ex. No matter how lonely or sad you are.

Perhaps you believe your ex can change? If your ex truly cared for you, you would not have been compromised in any way, shape or form. When someone abruptly leaves without warning, it is a hard thing to do--even if they made it look easy. I guarantee your ex was distraught about walking away. But, your ex still disappeared. So, however he or she felt when they betrayed your trust is irrelevant. What is relevant is the fact that we give ourselves permission to make an unethical decision only once. After we do, it is easier to repeat that same behavior again without remorse. Re-accepting a person who completely disappeared from your life only rewards negative behavior, a reward that requires you to accept being devalued. Such a reward guarantees that the person who hurt you once already will hurt you again. And again, and again...until you learn to finally say, "No."

Remember, I'm talking about toxic exes who arbitrarily disappear for sometimes years until it is convenient for them to return. There are definitely relationships that seem to end but the love does not, and neither does the friendship. You part as amicably as possible and remain consistent friends. You talk every day. You do not abandon each other or your responsibilities to one another. I think Gwyneth Paltrow called it "conscious uncoupling." Basically, you acknowledge you love one another but have fallen out of love, likely because of a build-up of small issues that have not been properly addressed. Separation can aid the oblivious partner in catching up. Regardless of any individual change or lack thereof, you both stay loyal to your core friendship and continue to share the responsibilities of your previous life together (like family obligations, co-owned property, a business, and/or managing other investments). It's pretty unusual, but it happens. In that kind of situation, your ex is not abusive or toxic. And so, there is space for a healthy reunion to take place in the future.

Though a healthy reunion with a toxic ex isn't possible, you can still do healthy things to increase your happiness as well as your chances of meeting your equal in love and life. An equal who will never abandon or abuse you:

Work out every day, without exception. Keep those endorphins pumping! Stay in touch with friends who are supportive. Floss, drink water, and eat well. Get seven hours of sleep! A doctor-colleague of mine pointed out that lost sleep cannot be replaced. Get your rest. Your primary obligation is to yourself. Whatever excuse you use to lose sleep, like social media, can wait. In fact, you should stay away from the void of social media as much as possible. Ground yourself not in the artificial world, but in the real one. Meditation and connecting with nature helps, too.

Time and patience is what heals a broken heart. No, you will not be the same again after suffering (physical) betrayal from a person you loved unconditionally. But, if you choose to see the experience as an opportunity to learn to love yourself better, you will not only survive--you will thrive. And hey, if a toxic ex apologizes at some future point without attaching any hopes of reunion, accept it, and enjoy your closure. But if you never hear from your toxic ex again, be grateful the Universe helped deliver you safely from an abuser. You are still alive and kicking--not everyone is that lucky. Feel happy and hopeful that you're now free to rebuild. You've been given an exceptional gift: A second chance. There is nothing more precious on the cosmic scale.

Second chances in life are rare...so don't give yours away to a person who has already proven to be unworthy. Give yourself a second chance at a better chance.

#JustSayNo

#AwakeLife #TwinFlame Post-script: The Daughtry song below was in my head before I woke; it's the reason I wrote this post today. I hope my words help those of you who have lived through abandonment and abuse. You deserved better and still do...remember that.

Shakespeare has been on my mind today. The bard dreamt of fairies, sprites, lovers, princes, kings, and women of valor. His hand, stained with dark ink, would pen the visions his mind revealed in his sleep. I wonder what would happen if I did the same?

Dreams of Ireland kept me company this morning. This time, London was somehow between where I was in County Clare and Galway. Shakespeare became famous after he moved to London. As a result of Shakespeare's passions, he had great adventures. He had love. He had fame. But he also lost it all. He was trapped between two worlds, two religions, two families, and two women. Shakespeare was human, after all.

I dreamt of Inis Oirr the other morning. An island of rocks. Great piles of stone cross-cross the landscape like a giant tattoo. It somehow reminded me of Queequeg, the noble savage from Melville's Moby Dick. His face, dotted with tattoos just as his speech was dotted with wisdom. "Call me Ishmael," is almost as famous a first line as "In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth."

Perhaps London is calling after all. Ireland certainly is....

The Universe has given me opportunities to understand the things that eluded me in love. The complexities. Also known as the human factor. How someone can both love and hate you at the same time. It's not real love when that happens. Real love does not change. A hard fact to face. On both ends of the spectrum. It's the white whale of all emotions.

We want to believe the people we love, love us, too. But, most people don't even know what love is. Similar to whalers in the 19th century, believing whales were really just big fish. Shakespeare thought he loved his wife...until he met his soul mate.

The sad part is, Shakespeare and his true love never married. He felt obligated to stay in what was a loveless marriage for his children. In the same vein, whales were hunted to near-extinction--even after it was determined that whales are not fish, but mammals, just like humans. Except, whales have bigger brains.

No matter how much one heart yearns for another, if the other person refuses to acknowledge their true feelings, that lost-love becomes immortalized not in the form of children, but through things like this--essays, poetry, songs, sonnets, and plays. Like the lost lives of whales immortalized in scrimshaw carvings housed in historic buildings in New England. Who would use the teeth of the dead as a canvas??? Safe to say, some forms of artistic expression are more brutal than others....

Ishmael and Queequeg were lovers in Moby Dick...the white whale indeed. Did you really believe that men were stuck together in the bottom of a whaling ship for sometimes three or more years and weren't fucking??? Human sexuality, like human love, has always been fluid. It evolves, grows, changes, expands. I wish people did, too.

Christopher Marlowe was born the same year as Shakespeare; Chris was a bit of a white whale himself. Marlowe's birthday was February 24th, but he was baptized on February 26th. A #224 and a Pisces--how magical. Unlike Shakespeare, Marlowe had a formal education. And yet, Marlowe wanted to believe in the unseen. In the occult. He wanted to see what Shakespeare could see so easily. Marlowe was Shakespeare's muse, but it was Shakespeare who inspired Marlowe to look for something bigger than himself. To find God, or Heaven, or both. It's too bad Marlowe found Hell instead. Everyone born on #224 ends up sacrificing themselves. Dying young. Or rather, younger than they should. It's all about the choices we make. When you choose to be a martyr, you're bound to die sooner rather than later.

Shakespeare and Marlowe may have been Twin Flames, born a mere two months apart. They first met in London. Guess where Melville's first book was published? Yup, London. When I was researching a little about Marlowe, the page I was reading online did one of those weird tech-blips and suddenly, I was staring at a map of Ireland. Can't make this stuff up, lol. But then again, it is a day of numerical symmetry: 721217

I took out the "0" in "2017" because it holds no numerical value, but in numerology, "0" is connected to the divine. If you simplify "721217," you get "11," or awakening.

#2121 indicates the need to get to know yourself and make the right choices for your future in order to move forward; it simplifies to "6." #2121 is sandwiched between #77, the number for miracles. Today is a day where you can make a decision about your future and miracles will help make it happen. My miracle for today? Why, as usual, it is you, dear readers. And now, from 103 countries!!! I'm humbled and grateful for that fact each and every day.

I was born not too far from where the fictional whaler in Moby Dick left for its adventures on the open seas. Melville and I are both Leos, too--our birthdays are but one day apart. Well, one day and 152 years, but still...the no-coincidence-rule applies. I even walk on a prosthetic brace, or, a peg-leg, like Melville's maniacal myopic sea-captain, Ahab. Maybe I'm more like Ahab than I realize, obsessing over nothing more and nothing less than a big fish bent on my destruction.

Everything is connected: I was just in Ireland recently, tracing my Irish roots. But, the first European city I ever traveled to was London. And yes, I studied Shakespeare. I talked my way into the archives of the Shakespeare Library in DC, too--you usually need an appointment. Both Marlowe and Shakespeare would have been proud of me. I just did the same thing at the Trinity College Library in Dublin. It's the boobs; they're fantastic. Not that it matters in matters of love. Heidi Klum, known as "The Body" in the modeling world, was abandoned by her baby-daddy before she met Seal. Halle Berry hasn't had an easy time of it either. And, poor Bridget Moynahan! Abandoned while pregnant by Tom Brady. The list goes on and on and on. Some of the most beautiful, talented women in the world have been left for dead by jerk-offs who took them for granted. So, I'm in good company.

I joke about my ample assets, and, they do help me win individual battles, but it is my words that will win the overall war. And, it is a war, make no mistake. I have had to fight for every inch of my life It's exhausting and I am exhausted. Sleep, perchance to dream? Ah, yes...for, the play is the thing, isn't it??? All the world's a stage, and the women and men merely players. Each of us has many roles throughout our lifetimes. Which is not as I like it...not at all.

Ed Sheeran...again??? Someone, somewhere must be listening to all his songs on iTunes. Because my psychic antenna keeps picking it up. A few days ago, it was "Happier."

How many times do I have to say it...if you love someone, don't sit around assuming they're happier without you! It's self-sabotage. You gotta tell people how you feel. We can't act on telepathy or Deanna-Troy-like empathic senses. In the physical world, people have to physically communicate in order to physically connect.

I really want my #TwinFlames out there, or people who believe they have found the other half of their soul in another, to STOP waiting, wishing, hoping, praying, dreaming. Stop trying to send psychic messages. Stop imagining you're with the person you love because you think it will magically communicate your feelings. If, in fact, you are in love with a person you are somehow separated from, pick up your smart phone and call, or text, or email. Use the "Notes" feature and write a letter. Download "Quickvoice" and pre-record a voicemail. Then, send it!

Yes, that's right, I'm asking you to leave "Fantasy Island" (great show, but it's been off the air for decades now) and join me in reality. It is a scary place. Harsh, even. Because, you may learn that the person you're pining away for was too hurt by you to respond. Or, even if you get a response, it may not be the one you want.

Hey, if anyone knows about rejection, it's me. I know how hard it is to put yourself out there and get nothing back. No response. Or, worse, a ridiculous response full of excuses and, yes, lies. But, losing a battle or two doesn't mean losing the overall war.

There's this great commercial running on American TV at the moment; I just saw it last night. All these famous athletes talk about how defeat--failure--is the reason for their particular success. I bet Ed Sheeran would say the same thing....

Failure is but fuel. It humbles you. Makes you grateful. And that's the edge you need to succeed, both in life and love.

If you look at Ed's lyrics, you can see that he's showing a guy who believes the smiles are twice as wide...not that it's actually true. Toward the end of the song, even he is questioning if looking happier actually means happy. But, that line about waiting for her heart to be broken before he let's her know he's there is exactly what I'm talking about...don't wait. Waiting is self-sabotage.

Do you really think there will ever be a perfect moment where you tell an ex you destroyed that you made a mistake??? Waiting, wishing, hoping, dreaming, maybe even praying, that "Destiny" intervenes on your behalf because you are too proud, scared or both??? All you're doing when you believe someone you love is happier without you is avoiding your responsibility. Again. See, it's likely you aren't with the person you love anymore because you were trying to avoid your responsibility in the relationship. Now that maybe months or years have passed, and you're not happier as a result of your initial decision, you wish you could get another crack at it. But, wishing won't effect real change. Until you swallow your pride, you'll never be happier. You'll never get a second chance at a second chance either.

That's #RealTalk. Take it or leave it.

Here's what I know:

"Dumper's remorse" is inevitable. If you were having great sex and were actually in love but allowed friends, family, the stars, the moon, your lies, your selfishness, and/or your fear to get in the way, you're insecure. When you stay silent rather than express your feelings in a direct way, all you are doing is continuing to react to your own insecurity. Being insecure is what got you into your current pickle. Do you really believe acting on those same insecure feelings is going to make the changes you want and need in order to be happy???

Einstein talked about how doing the same thing over and over but expecting different results is the very definition of insanity. And, actually, self-sabotage, self-punishment, self-loathing...all derive from psychological disorders. Pathologies that come from childhood trauma, keeping subsequent adults from finding true happiness because of some secret shame or shaming that--deep down--makes the individual believe they do not deserve it. Happiness. Love. Perhaps even life itself.

I can't stress enough how much every person--even the worst of us--deserves happiness. You see, the miserable need happiness all the more. You just spread your misery to everyone else otherwise. That's why you have to strap on your Amazonian breast plates, find your secret courage (instead of allowing secret shame to stand in your way), and go get the love of your life! Reactive folks need to get proactive. Has leading a reactive life made you happy? Don't answer right away. Think about it.

Have you thought about it? Good.

A reactive life is a life full of drama. You create it, look for it, find it on places like social media. You have a soap opera running on a loop in your head. Why? Because it allows you to remain the star. A sympathetic one. Yes, that's right...you get to play the victim. The irony is, you have to victimize others in order to stay a victim. You have to vilify people who don't deserve it. People like the one you pine away for. The one who made you happier.

Stop buying into the victim-scenario. Start communicating your feelings. If you take responsibility for yourself and your actions, you will be happier, no matter the outcome. Because, you will know--beyond a shadow of a doubt--that you made direct contact and spoke in an honest, straightforward manner. No guessing. No hoping. No wishing. No praying. No dreaming. Real life. You told the person you loved that you loved them. Period. If that person explains that too much time has passed or too much damage was done...apologize. And, keep apologizing. You screwed up. Bad. You know it, too, or you wouldn't be hiding in a corner waiting for some magical moment that will never, ever arrive.

Let me share what is happening on the other side while you wait (instead of act) for fantasy to become reality:

As you piss away valuable time cyber-stalking your ex and trolling her social media like she's your new religion, she has already been rejected by you. Perhaps more than once. Real love has a hard time accepting defeat. That means she has also already put herself out there. And you very clearly said no, or you wouldn't be wishing, hoping, dreaming, and praying for a magical reunion today. The consequences of your actions--of which you are solely responsible for--is that she has had no choice but to move on. Or, try to. So, of course she will look happy. Maybe even happier. But I ask you, have you ever seen anyone post unhappy pics on social media??? Come on!

Don't be such a selfish git and talk to the girl (or boy)! Be honest. Be real. If you get rejected, at least you know you tried. You can actually move on after that. No, you won't be happier with anyone else. Love is love is love. No, you won't forget or stop loving her (or him). You'll just realize that your behavior caused irreparable damage and guess what? You won't do that to anyone you even remotely care about again. Apologize and keep apologizing until the healing begins. That's quite literally the most important "job" any of us have as human beings--acknowledging each other properly. Our pain, our sorrow, our joy...all of it. Any of it. Get it???

You may be wondering if it would be worth bruising your ego and pride--taking such a huge personal risk. It is. The truth is always worth it. You're worth it, too. As is the person you truly love. If you love that person--for real--you will not continue lying to them just because it is easier, or, you imagine it is. What a crock! Do you think it was easy to endure the heartbreak you put them through in the first place??? If you tell a person you love that you love them--even after a long separation--at the very least, you will have given them peace of mind. Connections like real love are only real because they go both ways. The person you loved and left has ALWAYS known that you loved them. By finally acknowledging that love, you open the door to reunion because you are returning the things you stole--the validation and value of another human being. That's powerful stuff.

Hurts that aren't properly acknowledged become etched in a person's brain--neural pathways or emotional habits that will never not exist. An individual can reroute the signals that signal the hurt, but, it will always physically be there. More evidence as to why we all need to choose compassion over judgment, kindness over cruelty, faith over fear, gratitude over attitude, and positives over any negative. Even if we are afraid. Even if we tell ourselves it will only lead to "drama." Even if we come up with 1,000 reasons not to cross 1,000 miles. At the risk of showing my 80's roots, just do it....

In case you need even more reasons why you have to tell the person you love that you actually love them:

People matter more than problems. That's why seeking solutions is the only answer to finding, keeping and cherishing real love. Anyone can see another's faults--that's easy. We're all only human. But seeing the good in people, despite their flaws...that's the miracle of love.

In this lifetime, the best any of us may do is let the person we love know that we love them. If you also hurt that individual, tell him or her that you made a mistake. That begins the rerouting process. An emotional reboot, if you will. It doesn't necessarily mean a fairytale ending, but it does mean you've chosen healing over hurting and responsibility over recklessness. In my experience, that kind of positive energy will be recognized and appreciated when received by a positive person. That means, you've got a chance.

Living a life full of love, and the hope and faith that go with it, is necessary in order to better serve others. But, according to scholar Joseph Campbell, "Life is pain." That pain allows us to transform our consciousness, transcending the duality between love and hate, pain and joy, peace and war. Such transformation opens the door to our truest happiness--not having your clit expertly licked or your cock treated like a King by a Queen--although, those are pretty darned good, too.

While it's fun to think about (and do...), we are not just here to live out real-life porn scenarios; sex, though a healthy part of adult-life, is secondary to our ultimate purpose. Physical life exists so we may help others--that's how we truly help ourselves. The gift of life is a call to service. You may yet be unaware of how you will serve, but if you are reading me now, you have been called.

Pursue everything in physical life as if you were limitless...never let rejection, or fear of it, stop you from finding out, at the very least, the truth.

Be brave! I believe in you. But, you must, must, must believe in you, too. If you don't, miracles like real love will never get a chance to bloom and grow, no matter what happened in your past, or what is to take place in your future.

#Happier

#AwakeLife #TwinFlame Post-script: The picture insert is from three years ago this month. No make-up or filters either! I was on my way to Atlanta for a new job, moving into a new house, and starting a brand-new life. I was't just happy...I was happier. One of many happier moments captured that year. I wish I could go back and hug that hopeful girl in the picture. In just a few short months, her world would fall apart in such a way, things would never be the same for her again. But, she was willing to take the chance on a second chance. I'm proud of her (and me) for having the guts to go for it. By the way, today's numbers represent awakening, miracles and completion. May the good souls of this world who need all three get all three today, tomorrow and for the entirety of their existence...I know I need all three, lol. Let's meditate and pray together on awakening, miracles and completion for each other, and the world. Sending positive energy, light, luck, peace, and joy....

Pain is sometimes the only thing we have left after a terrible fall. There is nothing else, but the pain. After all I have survived--and that is quite a lot--I have never felt pain like this. It ceased, but only after I put 3,000 miles between me and it. It took nearly a week at that distance to feel a twinge instead of a pang. I wonder, does the hole left by a social-grenade launcher ever really heal? Or, do we just move from distraction to distraction, waiting, hoping, wishing...and yes, praying?

If my enemies enjoy reading my pain, this is your lucky day. Of course, there is a caveat. For every ounce of pain you caused me (and seem to enjoy reading about so much), you should know it will be yours one day, too. Tenfold. Not by my hand...never works that way. Being Karma's bitch has but few benefits, the biggest and best of which is knowing that the evil I have been sent to expose is always answered.

Always...and, forever, or, something like that. Maybe it's to the edges of infinity? Beyond our ever-expanding Universe??? You get the idea. Words spoken in love have a way of growing teeth in hate. And, I do hate. Hate because I love.

How can I love that which should be hated? I don't really know except to say that some hearts--like mine--are more angel than human. Perhaps it's the opposite...hard to say. I don't remember any other life. Just dreams. Hints. Guesses. Sometimes, I'll sit against a large rock in a new place, and a memory will flash before my eyes. My hand feeling in the dark along wet, rough stone. My mind telling me to be patient. To not show fear. Play the long-game. You see, I've been a prisoner before. It's why I won't go into old castles. Just once. And, that was enough.

The caves saved me somehow. Limestone, slick with water. Feeling my way to freedom. Never fearing death. A sense I carry with me today. Even when it was (or, is) imminent.

I see a great future. One where I get recompense for this most recent set of insults and injuries. It's a few years ahead yet, but, there does come a day when I am no longer feeling pain like this. It doesn't happen by accident; the changes occur by my own hand. The idea that we are all masters of our own fates sounds so great, until you realize you actually are in charge. 'Daunting' is the word that comes to my mind first.

Driving in Ireland, there was this moment where the GPS unexpectedly turned me onto a one-lane road--a true one-lane road--not the two-lane roads that seem like one-lane roads to Americans. It was in the Burren. And, I remember rounding corners where I could not see what could very possibly be another car barreling right toward me. As I wound my way through the ultra-narrow hidden roadways of Ireland, I actually heard myself say out loud, "Please don't let me die here...."

Irony, again. Because, only days before that moment, I considered how wonderful it would be to die there. In Ireland. A place where I had so much joy after not having it for most of my life. That might sound mad to people who haven't walked in my shoes. You may think my shoes more comfortable than they are between travel and occasionally hanging with celebs--but that's because you don't understand what it feels like to wear a heavy, prosthetic brace. And, have no balance. To feel like you have a perpetual 50-pound weight in your left hand. As if the world were constantly tilted on its' side. Imagine that for a moment. What do you think it's like to take even one step under those conditions?

Not fun. Although, it does leave room for good-looking men to offer me a hand. The white-knights of this world--how I love you. And, how you LOVE me.

Silver-linings! I've invested so heavily in that silver, you'd think I'd be rich by now....

I've been approaching this pain-thing all wrong. When it first happened, and I had yet to feel the full a/effect of irreparable consequences from another's actions, it was easy to see that using the pain to create wealth and live an amazing life was the best road to take. But, it's hard to start driving your car down any road--let alone those deadly little Irish roads--unless you have wiped the tears from your eyes. Pain is paralyzing though. How do you reach for a tissue when you can barely move??? That's been my quandary.

Living with gratitude helps. I'm super-grateful for my life, my friends, my family--not necessarily in that order. I once had a psychic-friend yell at me because of my sadness, "You won the genetic lottery...you have nothing to cry about." More irony. My Intelligent-genes is what opened the door to sadness. When you can see the next 50 moves ahead and realize you lose at the end, no matter what little triumphs you manifest in between, it's hard to feel joy about tomorrow. Or the next day, or, the next.

When I think about my happiest future, it always involves a little girl--one I'm not sure I'll have time to meet. That pisses me off. Because, it is inside me to make the people responsible for that loss also pay for it. Except, we live in a "civilized" world. One where, there are laws. Laws that allow innocent people to be caged and the guilty to roam free, sit with their grand-children, have sex, eat fried chicken and Junior Mints, dye their hair diarrhea-brown...that old chestnut.

All I need do today is look at a wolf and he shrinks from me. The female doesn't. She's also an alpha. She stands her ground, but playfully. Not to insult me. To be such a human, yet not a man, is a curse. I can't do anything in this body. Can't defend my own honor, or the honor of my daughter. But I really want to. So bad, it burns. Leos are like that. Fire of fire. That's why I sit and cry. It's why I chewed off my own leg, too. Being and staying sad means I can't get angry. If I ever allowed myself to feel rage at the complete and total injustices I've had to endure, what would happen? Not that it matters...I won't even eat meat because I don't want my life stained with blood, nor tarnish my soul through use, abuse, violence, and/or death.

Anyone who has been abused or suffered as a result of violence should feel the same. You're no better than the neighbor who knew but did nothing if you turn a blind-eye to the violence the rest of society silently accepts to (unnecessarily) sustain themselves. But please, continue shoving that rotting flesh into your colons! Don't let me stop you. Just remember, those you sacrifice for your own selfish needs have a way of taking out their revenge...in the end.

Though I can lift, push and pull hundreds of pounds--despite my other limitations--my greatest strength lies in my pen. There's a modicum of solace in that thought. Art is every human's savior, eh??? How unlucky we are to find ourselves physical creatures at the whim of each other, yet, how lucky that art exists as a way to not only translate, but transmute, our pain, our rage, our sorrow.

When you see me smile in pictures, I am not pretending to be happy...I am baring my teeth. There's a difference. We fixate on looking happy for social media. Putting forth positive images. But, that's not art. It's advertising...or, lies. Art is truth.

#Pain tells the truth, too. And, the true identity of those who cause it....

Feel better??? I bet you do. We don't say it enough, "Fuck you." But we really should. We should say it to the limits others impose on our lives. We should say it to the labels people put on us because of things like gender, hair color, bra-size, dick-size...or, lack thereof. We should say it to anyone who wants to put us in a social box.

Boxes are what we live in when we die. Life is simply too large, too broad, too big in scope to fit into anything but the whole of our ever-expanding Universe. It's the same with love, too.

Ed Sheeran was in my head again this morning (see video below). By no small coincidence, he was right in front of me a few nights ago as well. Literally. Even singing to me. Live. And, very much in person. Apparently, our mutual fandom goes both ways.

My girlwood for gingers is no secret, but Ed Sheeran and I are connected in a way I'm still trying to understand. One of Ed's best-selling hits says, "Fuck you!" to some idiot who hurt him. Actually, that very song came out when I was experiencing a similar betrayal. Ed was thinking out loud; when I attempted to do the same, let's just say my song didn't go platinum. But it was a fuck-you-song. And, it made me laugh to write it and sing it and post the video. I think that's the key to Ed's ultimate success...he writes and sings and plays for his own benefit. The fact that others appreciate the way he expresses his particular art is a bit of a happy accident.

I can relate....

It's not a daydream to fly to Ireland. It's not a daydream to write in international volumes on mental health, or have one of my essays published in an anthology by an award-winning author, or have books that are sold in nine languages and 101 countries. Not a dream of any variety. It's real life. Real accomplishments. And, I'm not done either. All of that? Just a warm-up. Like when Ed played me one of his new songs on Sunday. He didn't remember all the words. It was beyond adorable. I do the same thing. Write essays and can't remember all the words--even though I wrote every single one.

This week is PRIDE in my area of the world. My friends in the LGBT community have invited me to a number of celebrations connected to the parade, both before and after. Thinking about Ireland, about why I woke up at 4:44am this morning with a song about addiction in my head, about why we need to have PRIDE parades in this world, and, about why I have yet to make my Star Wars Millennium Falcon Lego set...somehow, it all kind of made me want to say, "Fuck you."

I miss Ireland. Bad. Miss my friends there. One in particular. But impermanence is the theme-song of human-life. Change is what has allowed life and love to win all across the States and around the world. My nephew was able to get married to the love of his life as a result of impermanence. My cousin was able to marry the love of his a few years ago. As well as many, many of my friends. One day, that same impermanence will allow love to win in my world, too. Actually it already has. Gratitude is what makes that possible.

Just being asked to sit down at a table with people who were strangers mere days before was a win for me. While I was in Ireland, friends were at World Pride in Spain doing the same thing--meeting strangers who became friends. All of us were out-and-about because we had the guts to say, "Fuck you," to someone, or, a lot of someones in my case. I said, "Fuck you!" to cancer, too. That kind of fuck-you-attitude has kept me alive. Beyond just the deep waters of multiple high-grade malignant brain tumors.

Such a strange thing to consider when I meet new people...I know I was given a two-year prognosis 16-years ago, but they don't. That means that when someone meets me for the first time, no matter where I am in the world, that person has absolutely no idea he or she is meeting a miracle. Or, what meeting a miracle may mean for their lives. Impermanence allowed that. My miracle. It's also allowed me to share it with each of you reading this right now.

When you go to a Pride parade or event this year or in the future, you're witnessing another miracle. Love is the ultimate miracle of all human-life. Of our very existence. Isn't it sad, then, that even someone as gorgeous, as talented, as deep as Ed-freakin-Sheeran can be rejected by an idiot who is likely in love with him but too afraid to admit it or commit or whatever her excuse may be??? Happens to the best of us--typically perpetrated by the worst.

Ready??? Say it with me now:

Fuck. You.

Fuck you, social boxes. Fuck you, controlling families and friends who prevent love in bloom from reaching its full potential. Fuck you to the program directors and bosses who replace women with men. Fuck you to the CFO who asked me to sit on his lap in order to get paid. Fuck you, prejudice plebians of the world. Fuck you, racist-assholes of all shapes and sizes. Fuck you to the nasty in-laws who made anti-Semitic comments about my hair. Fuck you, unsophisticated pedestrians who think love is only one thing, one position, one person, or one God with only one name. Fuck you to every man who's treated me like shit yet comes back and reads my blog. Like we're friends. As if you still know me. As if I still know you. Come to think of it...fuck you all times one-thousand. In the ass, too. That's right, boys...each of you better bend over and take it like a man.

Don't you worry. I'll go slow. Promise....

I don't know if you're laughing on your end, but I certainly amuse myself. Now, I can finally start putting together the 1,329-piece Lego set. After I finish the Millennium Falcon, it's onto Kylo Ren's shuttle, and then, the rebel x-wing fighter! Hey, did you know Ed Sheeran sings about Lego, too??? It's true. Like I said, we're connected.

Isn't it sad to know that people who never say, "Fuck you," can also never go home again? Can never go after their dreams? Never be with the person they love? Never have real joy? Nor, happiness???

Perhaps saying, "Fuck you," to people who are already broken is a lost exercise. A waste of time, as it were. Although, I read that intelligent people often swear in the midst of getting hurt in order to lessen the pain. It certainly helps me feel better....

Saying, "Fuck you!" can be liberating, as long as you're saying it to the right people at the right time in the right place and for the right reasons. "Fuck you!" isn't just something we say with our words either--it's said through our actions, too. Something to remember. Because, once you say it--no matter what your delivery method--it can't be unsaid.

Words matter. Even when others say you don't. Even when that message is delivered through, not words, but silence.

Life is for living. But in the last two years or so, the pain from loss has been so deep, it actually prevented me from doing just that:

Living...

To suffer in a prison of our own design is Hell-on-Earth. But miracles may still be found around every corner. You just to have to believe. And, keep moving forward. Giving up can't be an option, even when you're so sad, you're unable to sleep, or get out of bed, or pay your bills. Even if all you can manage is one small accomplishment each day, like flossing or taking a shower--and no, I'm not kidding. Progress is still progress. With each step forward, you bring yourself closer to your miracle, no matter the size or speed of your particular steps.

Change itself is not worth a single tear; it is the very fires of impermanence that forge the depths of the human-soul. Losing your purpose, however, that is grief-incarnate. Because, it means you've lost your faith in humanity, too. More's the shame....

How can we love if all we've ever loved has betrayed us? How can we be open when we are punished, penalized and persecuted for it? And, how can we be generous when greed is seemingly more important than giving? Grief, the modus-operandi of insecure and fearful hearts and minds--people who would trade something as rare as real love for something as common as Gap jeans. No, I'm not kidding about that either. But, when we finally recognize that real love was not really traded in for a few paltry pairs of clothing, rather, it was traded in for the pay off of causing our pain, it's easier to stop grieving and start living again. Once that happens, there's nothing that can prevent you from rebuilding all you've lost...and more.

Betrayal is just another form of social-bullying. It's the adult version of being beaten up on the school bus. I dealt with a bully in high school. A girl I thought was my best friend. She attacked me, yet she was the one who walked away with a black-eye. It's interesting to note how that pattern has repeated over and over again. The people closest to me, trying to ruin me in some way, yet, all their efforts ever accomplish is their own ruin. I used to think of those people as teachers, but I am the one schooling them, aren't I???

Treachery of any kind is meant to undermine a better person, a more talented person, a smarter person, a more successful person...the list goes on and on and on. You see, betrayal is about jealousy, resentment, envy--nothing more, and nothing less. Whatever you are, whatever you have--it's something your destroyer wants but is unable to attain on their own. Getting close to a person who has what the destroyer feels entitled to is simply a method of indirect attainment. Unfortunately, living vicariously is never enough. That's when things get ugly. But only temporarily.

Betrayal is ultimately an opportunity for intelligent people to permanently clear toxicity from their lives. Being proactive instead of reactive, or, moving forward with gratitude instead of attitude, allows for what I call "miracle-momentum." You'll stop missing the things you lost when that happens. Because, you'll know you can create a far, far better world than the one you left behind.

I am living, breathing, walking, talking, and writing proof of ALL of the above. I was truly happy three years ago...perhaps the happiest I'd been in my entire lifetime. But betrayal removed my happiness because it also removed my agency. It took me more than two years of working through the grief from all the loss. Why? I lost almost everything a human being can lose in less than a year--except my life. Luckily, that's all any of us ever need to get another chance at another chance. Because I kept moving forward no matter what, I am happy again. Going home to Ireland was an important part of that journey. A journey back to myself.

Ireland is strong, protective arms holding you close, guiding you safely through forbidden, narrow passages on rocky terrain. Ireland is the bluest eyes you've ever seen looking at you in a way that makes you feel sexy, loved and wanted all at once--the same eyes that saw you, and your cane, and never blinked. Nor, balked. Ireland teases you about your bad parking job and notices your good one the very next day. Ireland shares a table with you at dinner, and a brownie sundae for dessert. Ireland laughs at your truly terrible jokes, reaches for your hand before saying goodbye, and makes love to you in a single, parting glance.

Ireland is unexpectedly finding familiar names on headstones in a random churchyard. Ireland is driving through any town in any county and seeing medieval ruins amidst a vibrant, lush landscape. Ireland is learning why you've always preferred vinegar on your fries (or chips!), and that your family comes from a city known for its eloquence and independent-thinking--both of which have marked your life. Ireland is being invited to a birthday party after talking to a new friend for only an hour. Ireland is closing down the pub at four-in-the-morning while chatting about life, and the very next night, holding court with seven Irishmen and one Scotsman until the wee hours, meandering through philosophy, numerology and why the stars shine in the night-sky. That is, until one of the lads suddenly gets teary-eyed, "Isn't she the most intelligent woman, boys? And, last night, she drank me under the table, too! The face of an angel and the constitution of a devil...have you ever seen anything more beautiful???"

Indeed, I have, mo chara...and that beauty is you. All of you.

Ireland today is millions upon millions of faces and faiths from around the globe. It is love, tolerance, acceptance, and approval. Twenty-first-century Ireland chooses solutions over problems, kindness over cruelty, compassion over judgment, faith over fear, positives over negatives, and gratitude instead of attitude. We're talking about a country and a people who were pitted against each other for hundreds upon hundreds of years. A land that survived famine, disease, poverty, and death. A place that thrived amidst invaders, invasions and the rape of its land and people. Perhaps that is why Ireland is so joyful in 2017. On the other side of those horrors, Ireland has found relative peace. Balance. Equity. And, by the way, Ireland is also the best culinary experience you'll ever have...as good as Paris, Venice, New York, or San Francisco. Ireland has a socio-cultural history that is as old as the Hindus, and older still. As deep as the Kabbalistic tomes. As wide as all the oceans in all the world.

Go raibh maith agat, Eire, mo anam chara....

An Irish "failte" or "welcome," ushers you through every door, each one more colorful than the next. Mine is always open to you as well. Even if 3,000 miles are between us, I'm only a phone call or text away. Whether a Colm or a Kevin, a Niall or an O'Neill, an Orla or a Patrick. a Ray of Sunshine, a Shane, a Tom, a Megan, or, a McInerney, know that you are loved beyond measure.

Though my heart was warmed by every inch of the land, it is Ireland's people who made it my home...even if only for a little while. Thanks to you, I'm not alone in the world anymore.

About the Author

Rebecca Housel, Ph.D., known as "The Pop Culture Professor" (TM), is an international best-selling author and editor in nine languages and 100 countries. Rebecca, listed in the Directory of American Poets & Writers for her work in nonfiction, was nominated by Prevention magazine essayist and best-selling author of The ImmortalLife of HenriettaLacks, Rebecca Skloot, to the National Association of Science Writers for her work on cancer. Rebecca has published with best-selling author of The Accidental Buddhist, Dinty Moore's literary nonfiction journal, Brevity, and with commercial publications like Redbook magazine and online journals like In Media Res. Her recent interviews appear in publications such as the LA Times, Esquire, USA TODAY, The Huffington Post, Inside HigherEd, Woman's World magazine, and Marie Claire as well as on FOX news, and NBC. Former President of the New York College English Association, Housel was a professor in both Atlanta and New York, teaching popular culture, film, creative writing, literature, and medical humanities. Dr. Housel currently works on the Editorial Advisory Boards for the Journal of PopularCulture and the Journal ofAmerican Culture; she has also worked as a reviewer for Syracuse University Press and Thomson Wadsworth. A writer of all genres, Housel has written and published both fiction and nonfiction in over ten books and 398 articles, essays, book chapters, book reviews, and encyclopedia entries.